The Ruby Eyes of the Red Priest
by MasterOfThePen
Summary: Who was Rezo the Red Priest, and what was he like before he succumbed to the demon trapped within his body? Told through Rezo's eyes... I mean, POV.
1. The Light of Destiny

Author's Note: I do not own "The Slayers." I don't pretend to, even though I've watched the first series countless times and am a great fan of the work. When I first watched it, I immediately sympathized with Rezo, the Red Priest, even after he had been seduced to the dark side, in hopes of curing his eyes. I always wondered, though, what his life was like when he was still a kind and gentle man, untouched by his greedy ambitions, and what his relationship with the young Zelgadis was like. These are my thoughts on what happened to him, and how he became consumed by his quest to restore sight to his eyes. This is Rezo's story, as told though his eyes... Er, I mean, as told through his point of view... 

The Ruby Eyes of the Red Priest 

Chapter One: The Light of Destiny 

We are all born the same way. Within the comforting darkness of our mother's womb, we are conceived; bound inextricably to her, we grow and mature, until the time is right, and we are ready to be born. We cry out in agony as the harsh light pierces our infant eyes for the very first time. Soon, we become adjusted to the sun's dazzling radiance. Blinking, we look upon the faces of our parents, the pair who helped to create us. 

Unfortunately, my birth was not to be that way. Instead of leaving the dark safety of my mother's womb to enter into a world of light and color, I merely entered into another world of darkness, hardly different from my former existence. 

You see, I was born blind. 

My eyes, by some congenital mutation or by the will of the gods, were sealed closed. They were never to open and allow me to gaze upon the faces of my parents, or the wondrous beauty that the gods bestowed upon the earth. 

When I was eight years old, my parents took me to the priest, who had traveled many miles to seek a life of quiet meditation within the village, in hopes that he might be able to cure me. 

"Isn't there anything you can do, Wise One?" I heard the rich, deep voice of my father ask anxiously. I felt his strong, calloused hand upon my shoulder, quivering in anticipation of the priest's answer. 

"Let me take a look at the child," the gravely voice of the priest announced calmly. I felt his warm breath upon my face as he leaned closer to examine me. His tough, gnarled fingers encircled my face, his thumbs gently pressing against my eyelids. He rotated his thumbs slowly, pressing gently against my eyeballs. I heard him hum softly to himself in studious thought while he thus examined me. 

"You say he was born this way?" The priest asked after the examination. 

"Yes," the soft, lilting voice of my mother replied. "His eyelids are sealed together. We tried to open them when he was first born, but he cried out in terrible pain, and we feared that we would hurt him. So we waited until he was older and stronger, and tried again, but they are still sealed shut." 

"Please say that you'll cure Rezo!" My father's voice was raised in desperation. "We've tried everything! Medicines, poultices, and rags of herbs placed over his eyes, but nothing works. We need you to use your white magic to heal him." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "You're our last hope, Red Priest Karma." 

Though I could not see his face, I felt the priest's eyes upon me, boring into my small body. I shivered involuntarily under his scrutiny, and I was even more uncomfortable because I could not see his expression. What did he see when he looked upon me? What was he thinking? 

"I am not sure..." Karma said softly with an edge of hesitation. 

"We cannot pay you for your services," my father said quickly. "But if you can cure my son, I will be indebted to you! I will do anything you ask!" 

"Please," the Red Priest chuckled softly, a pleasant sound to my ears. "I need no payment. Healing the sick is my service to the gods. It is their will that I spend my life in service to others." 

"Thank you! Thank you!" I heard my father cry, his voice thick with emotions that he could not contain. 

"Rezo?" The Red Priest asked softly, placing his bony hands upon my shoulders. 

"Yes, Wise One?" I asked, turning my face toward the sound of his voice. 

"I am going to cast a healing spell upon you," he said with reassurance. "It is completely painless, but you may feel a slight tingling. There is nothing to be afraid of." 

"I understand, Wise One," I said, nodding my head. 

"Very well. Now stay still," I heard the sound of silk fabric shifting and he removed his arms from my shoulders. "This will only take a moment." 

I sat completely motionless, imagining myself to be a stone statue while the priest prepared to cast his spell. I heard him begin to chant strange words, my parents gasped softly. I heard the shifting of fabric as he moved his arms, and I felt as if the air was vibrating, tingling with power. He placed his gnarled hands over my eyes; the chanting increased in volume, and I could feel the healing energies being transmitted through his palms into my eyes. I smiled as I felt the warm wash of energy tingling throughout my body, knowing that in a few moments, I would look upon the faces of my parents for the first time. 

After a moment, Karma fell silent and removed his hands from my eyes. 

"Now, open your eyes, young Rezo," he said with warm elation. 

Clasping my hands together, smiling as big as I possibly could, I tried to open my eyes. 

I met with that same familiar resistance that I had grown so accustomed to. It was as if my eyelids had been glued together, and no matter how hard I struggled, they refused to open. My face fell, and from the disappointed sighs of my parents, I knew that they probably wore similar expressions. 

"I do not understand," I heard the Red Priest scratch at his head in thought. "The spell should have worked... What went wrong?" 

"Try again," the lilting voice of my mother pleaded. "Please, Wise One. Try again." 

"I still do not understand..." The Red Priest continued, confusion lining his words. "But I will try..." 

He placed his hands upon my eyes once more, but as soon as I felt his fingers touch my skin, he gasped sharply and drew his hands away. I heard his breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. I could smell the excessive perspiration upon his skin, the telltale sign of fear. 

"What's wrong?" I asked nervously while fiddling with the woolen fabric of my tunic. "Why do you draw away from me?" 

"Wise One!" My parents asked in unison, fear edging their words. I heard the sound of their feet thumping against the wooden floor as they ran to his side. Slowly, his breathing became steady once more, but the smell of his fear lingered heavily in my nostrils. 

"What happened?" My father demanded. "Why did you jump back like that? You looked as if you had seen a ghost." 

"Not a ghost," Karma said ominously, and again, I had the strange impression that his eyes were boring into me. "I thought I saw... Never mind..." 

"What? What did you see?" My mother's voice implored. 

"I am sorry," I heard his footsteps retreating from me. A loud popping noise, followed by the comforting creaking of old wood indicated that he had settled his ancient frame into a well-worn chair. "I cannot heal your son's eyes. It is beyond my power." 

"Beyond your power?" My father raised his voice in angry disbelief. "But I have seen your power! You healed the miller's daughter when she was burning with fever. By your hands, I have seen you make the lame walk, the mute speak, and the blind see! Why can't you heal Rezo? What is so different about him?" 

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard him chuckle softly to himself before he replied in his gravely voice, "It is the will of the gods which prevents me from healing his eyes. There is nothing I can do." 

"But you are the most powerful of your order!" My father shouted. I heard him stomp angrily toward the priest. "No one else can heal him, except you!" 

"And I will tell you again, Taldin," I heard the priest whisper with an edge of annoyance. "I cannot do anything. I cannot go against the will of the gods." 

"Why have the gods singled Rezo out?" My father cried out, his voice choked with tears. "What has he done to deserve the fate bestowed upon him? He is only a child!" 

Sighing, I heard the priest stand once more, his knees popped loudly while he eased himself out of his chair. I heard his footsteps pad softly away from us once more. 

"Rezo is different from other children," he said softly, a note of seriousness in his voice. "He has the light of destiny about him. I can see it. The gods have placed a heavy burden upon him, and he must see it through to the end. His being blind is a part of that, therefore, I cannot heal him." 

"But why Rezo?" I heard my mother sob as she wrapped her slender arms about my shoulders. 

"I do not know," the Red Priest admitted softly. "The gods work in mysterious ways, and even one as closely in-tune to them as myself cannot always see the end of all things." 

"So there is no hope for a cure, then?" My mother asked with a trembling voice. "He will be blind... Forever?" 

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Karma replied softly. "If the gods wish for him to see, then it shall be so. Only time will tell." 

"I am sorry for being angry with you," my father said in pitiful tones. I heard him tap his foot against the wooden floor nervously. "It's just that we've waited for so long to find a cure, and then you showed up in our village only a few weeks ago, so we had thought our prayers would finally be answered." 

A loud banging sound caused me to flinch. My father had slammed his fist upon the wooden table in his anger, "It's just not fair!" 

"I'm sorry..." I heard the Red Priest whisper in dejection. "I wish that I could have been of more help, but there is nothing I can do." 

"Thank you for your time," my father said contritely. "We really do appreciate your efforts." 

I felt my father's strong hands grip me under the arms, and I was lifted off the table and placed upon the ground. My mother took my hand and began leading me away. 

"Take care, Rezo," the voice of the Red Priest floated eerily behind me. "I will pray for you." 

"Thank you, Wise One," I called over my shoulder. 

My mother led me outside. I could feel the warm sunshine upon my right cheek and a cool summer breeze teasing my hair. The warmth of the earth seeped through the soles of my soft leather shoes, telling me that it must be late afternoon. The birds twittered softly; the breeze gently rustled the leaves of the trees. 

As we walked, my parents remained absolutely silent, except for the soft sound of their steady breathing. I turned my face upward toward my mother, and felt her hand tighten around mine reassuringly. 

I heard my father sigh deeply. Then he said, "Rezo, I..." 

"It's all right," I said softly, turning my head toward the sound of his voice. I forced a small smile. "You don't have to say anything." 

I knew that they felt terrible. They had told me all about the wonderful things I would see when the Red Priest cured my eyes. I remembered how I sat in my mother's lap, drinking in her every word, as she described to me all the beautiful things she had seen, and wanted to show me. They felt terrible about getting my hopes up, and then having my dream dashed to pieces. 

It hurt. It hurt me inside, knowing that I still could not gaze upon their loving faces, but at least there was hope! The Red Priest said that if the gods wanted me to see, then I would! 

"Rezo, you don't realize how terrible your father and I feel..." My mother began, but I squeezed her hand and placed a finger to my lips. 

"I already know," I said with sympathy. "But you did your best, and I thank you. But I'm not sad at all! Karma said that if the gods wanted me to see, then I would. So, if I do my best to please the gods, then I'm sure they'll grant me my eyesight, won't they?" 

There was a heavy silence between my parents, as if they were contemplating the answer to some mysterious enigma. Finally, my mother said softly, "Of course, my son. The gods reward good deeds, and so if you are righteous, the gods will bestow their blessings upon you." 

I smiled. I knew it! All I had to do was become the most righteous person on earth, and then the gods would grant me my eyesight. It was so simple, but I knew that it would take a long time before the gods would recognize my merit. How many good deeds must I perform? Certainly more than I could count. I decided then and there that I would make a solemn vow to perform so many good deeds that I would be recognized even among the gods. 

I awoke the next morning to the sun's rays warming my face and the lively singing of birds. Sitting up and stretching my arms toward the heavens, I yawned and turned my face toward the source of light. 

"Good morning, sunshine," I laughed while sliding out of bed and carefully counted ten paces toward the dresser. "Today is going to be a wonderful day!" Throwing off my nightshirt, I rummaged around until I found a tunic and breeches to wear. 

After putting my clothes on, I reached out toward the wall and my fingers brushed against the smooth wood of my walking stick. Grasping it firmly, I counted five paces to the doorway and felt my way along the wall toward the kitchen, the smell of frying eggs and sizzling bacon enticing me ever closer. 

"Good morning, Rezo," Mother chirped happily. "Hurry and eat your breakfast. You don't want to be late for school." 

"All right," Climbing into the old wooden chair, I felt around for the fork and began shoveling food into my mouth. I could hear Father beside me, the constant clink of metal striking metal meant he was eating just as fast as I was. 

"I've packed an apple and some bread and cheese for your lunch, dear," Mother said as I slid off the chair and handed her my plate. She took it and placed a small sack made of wool into my waiting hands. "Be good, and pay attention in class." 

"I will! I'm always on my best behavior!" I stood on my tiptoes so she could kiss me on the cheek. 

"See you later, good bye!" Mother called from the doorway as I began walking away. 

"Bye, Mother! Bye, Father!" I called over my shoulder as I began walking down the dirt path toward the school house. 

"There you are, Rezo," a light and playful voice called out to me from my right. "For a minute, I thought you were going to be late." 

"Good morning, Annabelle!" I reached out until my hand brushed against her cheek then settled on her rough fabric of her shoulder. Everyday she would meet me outside my home and lead me to school and everyday she would lead me back home. Without her help, I would have been lost in my own hometown. 

"Here, let me take that for you," she took the sack I had been carrying. "What did your mom pack for you?" 

"Same thing as always," I smiled as I continued to tap the ground in front of me with my staff. "Homemade bread and cheese, and a fresh apple from the orchard." 

"Your mom always makes the best lunches," Annabelle giggled. Her laughter reminded me of the twittering songbirds that sang outside my window every morning. 

A loud ringing sound indicated that school would be starting in just a few moments. 

"That's the school bell!" Annabelle took my hand and began jogging along. "Hurry up, or we'll be late!" 

"All right! Not so fast! I don't want to trip and fall!" 

We made it just in time to take our seats near the back of the classroom with only a moment to spare. I sat down with hands folded neatly on top of the wooden desk as the teacher began the day's lessons. Most of the lessons I could learn simply by listening to what was being said. I was one of the best at reciting oral passages and poetry because without the benefit of seeing it written on a page, I was forced to memorize it as the teacher recited it out loud. 

When it came time to study our letters and numbers, Annabelle would trace out the shapes in the palm of my hand so that I could see what they looked like in my mind's eye. I would then attempt to duplicate what I felt onto my chalkboard, but often than not, it would turn out to be unintelligible squiggles compared to everyone else. I knew this because of the stifled giggles that would pervade the room when it was my turn to show my work. Though the teacher was kind and understanding enough to not grade my handwriting, I still felt embarrassed that I could not write. 

"All right class, it's time for lunch," the soft voice of the teacher announced. "Take your lunches off the back wall and go eat outside. I will call you back in half an hour." 

"Hoo boy! I'm starving!" Annabelle took my hand and led me to the back of the room where everyone placed their lunch sacks. I began feeling around for my lunch sack. 

"Oh no!" Annabelle moaned as she tightened her hand over mine. "My lunch sack is missing! Someone must have taken it." 

"Don't worry, I'll share with you," I smiled at her. "My mom always packs too much anyway." 

"You're a terrible liar, Rezo," she giggled, but I detected a hint of sadness in her tone of voice. "But you're very sweet." 

She led me outside and we sat beneath the cool shade of a large oak tree. I opened the sack and began dividing up my meager portions with my one and only friend. The sweet taste of honey baked bread had barely touched my lips before a sneering voice called out, "You shouldn't share your lunch with _her._ You might catch fleas." 

"Shut-up, Bryan," Annabelle's voice was thick with annoyance. "I know it was you that took my lunch, so just go away and leave us alone." 

"You know, it's a good thing Rezo was born blind," I heard his footsteps edge closer. "Because if he could see just how ugly you really are, he wouldn't come near you." 

"That's not true," I stood with fists clenched at my sides, trembling with righteous anger. "Annabelle is the most beautiful girl I know, whether you care to admit it or not." 

"Rezo..." I heard her voice was trembling with nervousness. 

To my surprise, Bryan began laughing hysterically. A soft thump onto the grass meant he had fallen over in his mirth. 

"You can't possibly think that pock-faced hag is beautiful? I've seen pigs that look better than her!" 

A soft shuddering sob escaped from Annabelle and I wondered why she was crying. Bryan was obviously lying. 

"Leave her alone!" Dashing forward I tried to jump on top of the cruel bully but met only with a mouthful of grass. Slowly, I picked myself up and tried to determine his position by the sound of his uncontrollable laughter. 

"You're so pathetic, Rezo," he snickered while I charged again, swinging my staff in his direction. Connecting with only thin air, the force of my swing caused me to spin in a circle and fall to the ground. "Anyone knows you can't fight what you can't see." 

Before I could get to my feet, I felt my staff being jerked from my hands. 

"Give it back!" I flung my arms about wildly, trying to regain my stolen staff. 

"Bryan, that's low, even for you!" I felt Annabelle's hand on my shoulder, her voice trembling with rage. "You know he can't find his way around without his staff." 

"If you want it so badly, why don't you fetch it for him, you mangy dog!" He laughed once more as a whooshing sound followed by a sharp crack told me that he had thrown my staff against something. I gasped, hoping that it wasn't broken. 

"Come on," Annabelle pulled me to my feet and began leading me away. "Let's go get your staff." 

I kept my hand on her shoulder as she began leading me toward the forest just behind the school house. I could smell the strong odor of pine and cedar and the cool shadows of the trees fell over us, our footsteps crunching over dead pine needles. 

"It has to be somewhere around here," Annabelle turned left and right. "Ah! Here it is." 

Bending down, I heard her brush some leaves aside. Straightening, she placed the staff in my right hand. Thankfully, it was still in tact. 

"Come on, we'd better get back before lunch is over," She sighed and began trudging through the carpet of dead leaves once more. 

"Wait," I called softly. She stopped and turned toward me, and I could feel her eyes focused on me. "What Bryan said earlier. It's not true, so don't feel sad about it." 

"Rezo..." There was a slight hiccup. "It _is_ true. Everyone knows, except you." She sniffled softly. "I got sick with the pox when I was small. I got better, but my face is covered with pock marks. None of the kids wanted to play with me because I'm so ugly! The only reason you're friends with me is because you're blind and can't see how ugly I really am!" 

I could hear her crying loudly now. I didn't understand. Ugly and beautiful. What did these words mean? I remember my mother trying to explain it once. Ugly is something that people don't want to look at while beauty is desirable. I didn't quite get her meaning, but I thought I understood what she was trying to say. 

"You're not ugly at all," I said softly as I stepped closer to her. Reaching slowly outward, I placed my hands upon her shoulders. She paused in her sobbing while I let my fingers slowly follow the curve of her slender neck toward her chin and over the soft fullness of her cheeks, wet with tears. Cupping her face, my thumbs traced the curve of her eyes and eyebrows as my fingers wove into her silken hair. As my hands touched her face, I began to form a mental picture of what I felt, just like when she traced the letters into my palms. 

"You _are_ beautiful," I whispered as her hands gently encircled my own. "Everyone else is blind if they cannot see how beautiful you really are." 

"Rezo..." She wrapped her arms around me and nestled her face into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, the smell of fresh apples clinging to her hair. "You are the kindest person I have ever met, but you're wasting your time with me. I will never be as truly beautiful as you imagine me to be." 

"Who says beauty is on the outside?" I whispered into her soft and silky hair. "You are the only one who saw past my blindness and tried to help me overcome my disability. You are far kinder than anyone in this village and they don't deserve you. I know that even if you aren't beautiful on the outside, the gods have blessed you with a perfect soul on the inside, and that is far better, don't you think?" 

"Yes, you're right," she sighed and I could feel her warm tears against my neck. "The gods must have blessed you with wisdom beyond your years and the ability to see what others cannot." 

"You and I will leave this village together, someday," I said as I patted her back. "We will go far away, and join a temple maybe. We can help people that are sad and hurt, and make them beautiful and happy again. We can teach them to look inside others, and themselves for happiness." 

"That would be nice..." Her tears had finally stopped and it was at that moment that I finally realized what my true calling in life would be. I would become a priest and help people with their problems and teach them to be more understanding and accepting of one another. And what better way to gain recognition among the gods than by spreading their teachings and performing acts of kindness to all? 

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Well, what'd you think? I haven't been reading much "Slayers" fanfiction, but I think Rezo has been an underrated character when it comes to fics. I think this might be the first time anyone has ever attempted to write from a blind character's point of view. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Read and review, onegai! 


	2. Crimson Tears

This is a lot harder than I thought, but a I will preserver, nonetheless! I think that by writing through his point of view, I can better understand the anguish Rezo must feel at never being able to see the things we so often take for granted. On with chapter two! 

Chapter Two: Crimson Tears 

I am still unsure of why the gods chose my village. Perhaps the gods had nothing to do with it. Perhaps it truly was just a random act of violence. Whatever the reason, I wondered if I still would have followed the same path had things gone differently. Probably. After all, my entire life has been bound to destiny. 

I was ten years old at this point. I had learned to find my way around well enough that I no longer needed to cling to Annabelle's shoulder, but it was still comforting to have her near my side when wandering outside the safe confines of my home. My old wooden staff was no longer a mere walking stick, but an extension of myself. It became as much a part of me as my arms or legs were a part of me. By weaving it back and forth across my path, I could tell if we were walking on a dirt or paved road, if it was uneven, slippery, on an incline, or any number of conditions. 

Despite my inability to read or write, I quickly rose to the top of the class and was able to recite long epics and ballads perfectly without stumbling over any words. I was eager to learn, even outside of class, and poor Annabelle was forced to match her level of reading to mine so that she could read books to me from the teacher's personal library. My favorite subjects were history and geography. I was fascinated by all the great heroes and cities that existed so far away from my own tiny village. How I wish I could escape this miserable town and experience all the exotic locales that the world had to offer. 

"Sairaag sounds just simply romantic," Annabelle sighed with longing as she read a passage out of the book. "An entire city held within the clutches of the great Spirit Beast Zanafer. A single hero from a long line of Holy Knights, wielding the legendary Sword of Light, charges into battle and slays the wicked beast and purifies the town of its foul miasma by planting a mighty tree within the center of the city. I'd love to go there and meet one of his descendants. I bet he'd be terribly handsome." 

"Ah, the fair princess wishes to be swept off her feet by a knight in shining armor atop his noble steed," A huge grin spread across my face. "That certainly sounds like a match made in heaven." 

"Oh, stop!" She sounded embarrassed. "You know that would never happen. Besides, he'd probably take one look at me and run screaming for the hills." 

"A knight would never do that to his princess. He would travel to the ends of the earth to find the wicked sorcerer who stole your beauty and beat him to a bloody pulp until the curse was lifted." 

I smiled as Annabelle giggled, "You always have to romanticize everything." 

"It makes it sound better." 

We burst out into peals of laughter. I quickly stopped. Something was nagging at the back of my mind. 

"What's wrong?" Annabelle placed her hand over my own. 

"Something bad is going to happen..." I remained absolutely still, trying to listen to the wind rustling within the leaves. There was a faint smell on the wind, warm and stinging, like something was burning. 

"There's black smoke rising from the east side of town!" Annabelle quickly stood as I pulled myself to my feet. "Something's on fire!" 

Even as she spoke, I could hear someone scream followed by the shriek of a horse. The earth was trembling beneath my feet and the wind was growing hotter by the minute. 

Clamoring footsteps and labored breathing met my ears as someone cried out, "It's the Black Dragon Fangs! Run! Get out of here before they kill you all!" 

"Rezo, we've gotta find a place to hide!" Annabelle grabbed my hand as several people rushed by, screaming and wild with terror. I could hear the sound of pounding hooves against the ground not far behind us and the whine of steel sliding against steel. 

"We'll never outrun horses, we've gotta hide in the forest," Annabelle yanked harder on my arm and veered sharply from the path. The fire was spreading rapidly; the smoke blotted out the sun and the wind felt like steam on my neck. The smell of burning thatch stung my nostrils and I covered my nose with one hand to keep from gagging. 

The sound of agonized screaming rang within my skull as both men and women were cut down by the bandit's cruel swords. I slammed into Annabelle as she suddenly stopped. The sound of a horse snorting and stamping the ground before us caused me to tighten my grip on her hand. 

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?" A deep and calloused voice questioned from the direction of the horse. 

"Please, spare us!" Annabelle backed into me as we shied away from the bandit. "We've done nothing wrong!" 

"Shut-up, you ugly wench!" I heard the screech of steel sliding against steel. He was drawing a sword from its sheath. "Give me your valuables, and I might let you live." 

"We're only poor farmers, we have no gold..." Annabelle was cut off by an angry growl. 

"Then die!" The horse shrieked in bloodlust as the bandit roared with fury. 

"Run, Rezo!" Annabelle shoved me back, and I heard her scream as the sword cut into her and her warm blood sprayed upon my face. Hot tears were rolling down my cheeks, along with her blood as I turned and stumbled my way through the wreckage of the village, the sound of hooves pounding close behind me. 

My foot caught on a jutting piece of wood and I fell face first into the dirt path. Hooves were stomping close behind me. Rolling on my back, I held my staff in a feeble attempt to ward off his blows. I knew that I was going to die in just a moment. I could hear his roaring voice, his sword would be poised above his head, ready to strike... 

The air was filled with a tingling sensation, as if the very air itself was trembling with power. A familiar voice called out, "Flare Arrow!" which was followed by a gargled shriek from the bandit. A loud thud followed by the horse's panicked retreat meant that the bandit had fallen while his horse fled. 

"Take my hand, Rezo," I heard the same familiar voice that had cast the spell. It was Karma, the Red Priest. "Hurry, or you're dead!" 

"But what about everyone else?" I began to sob anew, but he snatched my hand and began dragging me along. 

"Everyone else is already dead," he said as his hand tightened around my own. "The only reason I survived the initial attack was because I was in the forest picking herbs when the bandits rushed into town." 

"But we have to do something!" I struggled against his arm and my reward was a sharp slap against my right cheek. I recoiled in fear and revulsion at what he, of all people, had done to me. 

"There are too many and my powers are not strong enough to defeat them all," his gravely voice was hard with resignation. "If you want to live, we must flee. Revenge will have to wait." 

I nodded gravely, my cheek still smarting from his blow and began to run after him. I was keenly aware of a new smell in the air. I had never experienced it before, but I knew exactly what it was. It was so sweet and sickening at the same time, that I wanted to vomit as soon as it reached my nostrils. I will never forget it: the smell of burning flesh. 

Even though we were miles away from the village by the time we stopped to rest, I could not help feeling we were still too close to danger. I continued to weep for my friends and family that had passed on while I sat upon the dewy grass. We must have been in a glade deep in the forest; the sounds of birds twittering and insects buzzing was a constant accompaniment to the rustling of the wind in the trees and the gurgling of a nearby stream. 

The Red Priest had not spoken to me since we fled the destruction of my home, but I felt that was because he knew that his words could not comfort me. I heard a soft splashing nearby: he must be washing his face in the river. I could only imagine what my own face must look like and decided it would be best to wash away the soot and tears: hated reminders of my tragedy. 

Padding toward the direction of the stream, I kneeled down and began splashing my face with the icy mountain water. I no longer felt the need to cry after the refreshing shock of the cold water revived me from my mourning. As I was cleansing myself, I was keenly aware of the stillness and the silence of the man next to me. Perhaps he was staring intently at me, like that time so long ago when he tried to cure my blindness and recoiled from me in fear. 

I ceased my washing and turned to face him with grim resolve, "What now, Wise One?" 

"That depends entirely upon what you _want_ to do," he replied in that solemn gravely voice. 

A small gasp escaped me. That was the last thing I expected him to say. 

"I want to make them pay," I stared at my lap where my hands were balled into tight fists. "I want to punish them for their evil ways. I want to protect people. I want to give guidance to those who are lost, and heal those who are sick, and bring happiness to everyone." I raised my face one more to look in the Red Priest's direction. "I want to become a priest." 

"Is that what you truly want?" His voice was gentle, yet it still retained that solemn tone. "Then that is what you should do." 

"Don't mock me!" I forced myself to hold back the angry tears stinging my eyes. "You know I can't do any of that! I'm blind; how am I supposed to defend myself or others if I can't see what I'm fighting? I'm too weak to help anyone." 

I turned my face away, too ashamed to let him see the tears leaking from my sealed eyes, despite my best efforts to hold them back. A lump had formed in my throat, preventing me from saying anything more. Suddenly, strong arms embraced me and drew me closer toward the old man's ancient frame. I buried my face into his silken robes and was overcome by racking sobs. I cried for a long time. I cried until my eyes were dry and my heart was cleansed of all my sorrow. And still I clung to him, my only support and source of guidance in this cruel and dark world. 

I felt his gnarled hand stroking my hair as he spoke softly, "Rezo. You have a sincere desire to help others, and that is all that is required for you to become a priest. As for your blindness, that can be overcome. If you will become my acolyte, and serve me and the temple, I can teach you to fight without sight." 

"How?" I raised my face toward his own, a tiny flicker of hope burning within my heart. 

"You must learn to listen and to feel with your heart," the Red Priest said. "Everything has a spirit and a voice. You must learn to listen to the wind and feel the trembling of the earth beneath your feet. A man may become completely silent, but he cannot mask the rush of breath into his lungs. I will teach you to use all of your senses and to develop new ones to aid you in determining your surroundings. Your blindness will no longer become a burden, but a blessing, for you will be able to see what others cannot." 

_You are able to see what others cannot._ Those were the same words Annabelle spoke so long ago. Perhaps it was my destiny to become a priest, and yet... 

"You seem troubled. Do you doubt your abilities?" Karma asked. 

"Will I..." I hesitated, thinking perhaps that my words were blasphemous, but I continued. "If I become a great priest, will the gods grant me the power to cure my eyes?" 

There was a long and heavy silence before the Red Priest finally replied, "That depends... But there is a good chance that you might." 

A chance was better than nothing, and I was taking a great risk at undertaking such a heavy burden, but my mind was made up. I would become a priest, no matter what, and I would become worthy enough to regain my eyesight. 

We traveled many miles until we reached the temple of the Dragon God, Sweefede, creator of all worlds. It was here that I would begin the long and arduous journey to become a great and powerful priest. At first, I was assigned various menial tasks so that I would learn my way around the temple and its inhabitants. Most of my work consisted of kitchen duties and delivering messages, but eventually I worked my way up to assisting the priests in their daily rituals and blessings by carrying their various scrolls and talismans, all the while learning the basic disciplines that would assist me in my training. 

Master Karma read the holy scriptures and doctrines of our order, and I was expected to memorize and recite all the precepts at a moments notice. I was pleased that he was quite impressed with my recitations and he soon discovered that I was a quick learner. He began to teach me to become aware of my surroundings by listening to the voices of the spirits all around us. 

"The wind," Master Karma said. "Carries on it the voices of all who speak. If you listen closely, it can tell you of events happening miles away. Even the birds and beasts, which most believe are unable to speak, will give up many secrets if only you learn to understand their language." 

So I learned to divine answers from the wind and to understand the language of birds and beasts. By attuning myself to the rhythms of the earth, I could determine if someone was walking toward me, even though they believed they had remained absolutely silent. My hearing had become so acute that every breath, every rustle of a leaf, the swish of fabric as a person moved, even their footsteps upon the sand could not escape my notice. 

Even more important was my ability to feel their life-force, their very souls. By concentrating carefully, I could actually feel the heat of a person's body radiating toward me and the aura of their spirit energy surrounding their body. Once I had achieved this total awareness of my surroundings, I could walk confidently, even without my staff, and never have fear of stumbling or becoming lost. Truly, I had gained freedom at last. 

Now, my real training would begin. 

Three years had passed since my arrival at the temple and my first steps into adolescence was already apparent. I was much taller than many of the acolytes my age, as tall as some of the priests even, but I was quite gangly and had to spend many long hours tailoring my robes so that my wrists and ankles would not remain bare. Sadly, my first robes were an embarrassment to the priesthood, so some of the female acolytes were kind enough to sew them for me. 

"Now, it is time you began to learn the basic orisons that will prepare you for true spell casting," Master Karma said as we sat together in the vast library. The smell of ink and dust was overwhelming, as was the silence and the vastness of the cavernous space. Carved of cold granite with ceilings that soared over one hundred feet, it was the largest room of the entire temple. 

"What are orisons?" I asked, unfamiliar with the term. 

"Simple spells that have useful effects, but are weak and not meant for battle," he replied as he slowly turned a page in the musty tome before him. There was a faint smell of mold emanating from the ancient tome. "They can be used to make life easier for a priest. Cleaning soiled robes, calling a book to you from across the room, lighting a candle; orisons can perform many helpful tasks. Once you can master these spells, then you will be ready for the true spells which will aid you in battle and to bestow blessings upon others." 

"How does magic work? How does one go about casting a spell? Can anyone learn?" My mind was filled with too many questions that I could not voice them all. Magic had always been a fascinating and mysterious power that I never quite understood. I knew magic was quite commonplace, but since there were hardly any spell casters in my villager, it was always an awing experience when magic was performed. 

The Red Priest chuckled at my eagerness, and I blushed at my sudden outburst. 

"Magic is a complex and powerful force that should never be taken lightly, even among supposed 'masters' of the art," he explained. "Technically, anyone can learn magic, all one would need is proper instruction, dedication, and discipline, but because of the nature of magic only those with inborn talent may truly master it. 

"Magic is a combination of energy within a person and the energy summoned from a powerful outside force working in unison to create a desired effect," he continued. "If a person does not have powerful enough inner energy, they cannot summon these outside forces, and therefore cannot cast spells." 

"What do you mean by 'outside forces'?" I asked while leaning on my elbows, enthralled by my master's story. 

"All magic is powered by the energy granted to the caster by various spirits or deities," Master Karma said. "Depending on what magic you are dedicated to, you will call upon different deities to grant you power. Shamanism magic calls upon the power of Mother Earth and nature spirits, even delving into the Astral Plane. White magic is powered by the God of Light, Sweefede, and the positive emotions of courage, kindness, and love. But the most powerful and dangerous of all is black magic," his voice took on an icy tone, "Black magic is the providence of the dark god, Ruby-Eyed Shabranigdo, and relies on the negative emotions of fear, anger and hatred to power his spells." 

"Ruby-Eyed Shabranigdo...?" I had never heard that name in my life, but I had the strange feeling that I had known it all along and that I was only just remembering it. A dull ache was forming behind my eyes, and I began to rub at them with the tips of my fingers to relieve the pain. 

"Is something wrong?" The Red Priest asked with warm concern, but I detected a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

"No," I answered a bit too quickly and shook my head to clear it. "I'm fine. Please, continue." 

"Perhaps we should go outside and take a break from studying for a while," he said while closing the book in front of him. "I need to stretch my legs. You know how we old men get stiff in the knees." He chuckled while I assisted him in extricating himself from his chair and we made our way outside. 

The summer air was thick with heat, but luckily a cool breeze was blowing and caused my robes to billow out slightly. We walked slowly down the garden path, each of us carrying a staff in our right hand: one for support and one out of habit. I no longer needed it to walk, but it was comforting to have something to hold onto in the darkness. 

It was many long moments before I broke the silence with my soft question. 

"Master," I asked. "What does 'red' look like?" 

"What?" Karma actually stopped dead in his tracks he was so surprised at my sudden question. 

"I was wondering because you are the Red Priest, and I was always curious what color your robes looked like," I answered. It was something that had always bothered me. I was fascinated with the title 'Red Priest' and yet I had no idea what red looked like. 

"Well," I could hear him scratching the rough skin of his cheek in thought. "How can I describe this to you?" He hummed a little as he was apparently looking for a way to explain a color to someone who could not see colors. "You are blind only because your eyes are sealed close, but that does not mean they don't work... I know. Turn your head toward the sun." 

"All right..." I said slowly, wondering how that was supposed to help explain anything. 

"That color you see on the back of your eyelids when you stare at the sun with your eyes closed," he paused for a moment, allowing me to let it sink in. "That is what red looks like. The color of a rose petal, the color of blood, the color of rubies..." 

"Red..." I breathed in awe as I beheld the color on the back of my eyelids. "So that is what it looks like..." Once again, I felt that dull ache right behind my eyes, but I dismissed it as the strain of staring at the sun too long. Turning my head, I rubbed at my eyes as a morbid thought entered my mind. _All I can see is black and red... The colors of darkness and blood..._

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__Wow! Little Rezo is growing up so fast! Before long, he'll soon be as powerful as the Red Priest himself! What's gonna happen next? Read and review, onegai! 


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